The Talk
by Enkou Sokugetsu
Summary: What happens when the big brother proves to be a lot more prude than little, seemingly innocent Feliciano? Yaoi implied, implied GerItaGer, implied Spamano - no Italiacest
1. Main Story

_**_**Author:**_ **_Enkou Sokugetsu_**  
><em><strong>Title:<strong>_ **_In which the "little, cute brother" gives "the big, scary talk"_** (This is the complete title! I hate the limited characters !)  
><em><strong>Fandom: <strong>_**_Hetalia_**  
><em><strong>Genre:<strong>_**_ Cuteness, brotherly love_, _some sex-talk, sweet beyond belief_  
><strong><em>Characters:<em> **_Feliciano (N. Italy), Romano (S. Italy) - mentioned Antonio (Spain) and Ludwig (Germany)_**  
><em><strong>Pairings:<strong>_**_ implied GerItaGer (you've read right, bitches), implied Spamano. No Italiacest. For this time, at least..._**  
><em><strong>Rating:<strong>_ **_Nothing really happens, but a freaking lot is hinted. Won't avoid M-rating, with this one *chuckles* So! M-rated for implied sex (a lot), and language (Romano, remember?)**_  
>Summary: <em>**What happens when the big brother proves to be a lot more prude than little, seemingly innocent Feliciano? Yaoi implied, implied GerItaGer, implied Spamano - no Italiacest_**  
><em><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>_ **_Hetalia is not mine. But I'm Italian, heck, this must count as something, right? :D_**  
><em><strong>Special Thanks:<strong>_ **_to my auntie, for beta-ing all my works, this included!_**  
><em><strong>Dedicated to:<strong>_ **_my **_auntie_**, of course, 'cause she loved it! And, well, to everyone who thinks that Feli actually HAS a brain..._**  
><em><strong>Notes: <strong>_**_English is not my native language. If you spot any mistakes, please do tell me and I'll do my best to correct them!

Hello, everyone! This is my modest take on the Italian Bros.  
>It's a little weird, believe me, because I was born in the South of Italy and brought up in the North (the living proof that not <em>every<em> Italian is offended by Hetalia).  
>Talk about personal involvement...*chuckles*I've never written about them before, though, apart from some...random Spamano here and there.<p>

Anyway, if you believe Feli is a complete moron, stray off. If you believe Romano is a bitch without any reason... stray off as well.

Oh, a personal note here. I REFUSE to call Romano "Lovino". To me, they'll always be Feliciano & Romano Vargas. Any Italian with some common sense would think Lovino is HORRIBLE. At least, Romano is an actual NAME...

Oh, I have TWO (yay!) omake (extra) chapters (spin-offs?) ready (I mean, they're already written, babies) - should you like this one...so? Should I upload them or not?_  
><em>

_**Italian glossary:**  
>Fratellone - big brother<em>

_Capito? - understood?_

_Oh, mamma! - Oh, mother! - typical Italian exclamation. More or less like "Oh, Lord", and the likes, I'd say._

_**Spanish glossary:**  
>mi amor, mi vida, querido - my love, my life, beloved one (I suppose they're all?)<br>_

_**In which the "little, cute brother" gives "the big, scary talk"**_

When Feliciano Vargas slipped out of the shower and went down into his kitchen, he was rather surprised to spot his brother kicking and yelling against the fridge.

"Bastard! Jerk! Idiot!"

"_Fratellone_...? What's wrong?" he inquired with a light tone, tilting his head to the side and arranging the towel around his waist.

"Huh?" Romano turned around, his glare softening as soon as he saw his little brother "Nothing much. That Spanish jerk is...! Aaah! Would you believe it? I volunteered to give him a shoulder massage, just to sound "gentle", for once and..."

His face contracted into an impossibly disgusted grimace, and he took out a Coke from the fridge, slamming the door close with a kick.

In a sense, Feliciano had seen in coming.

Differently from the common belief, Romano was a calm and goodhearted guy, and, to make him so upset and angry, only two things could have happened.

Either he had seen Ludwig, or he had had one of his usual quarrels with Antonio.

He stepped closer, leaning against the counter.

"And then? What happened?"

"Then..." the older one's face became bright red and he gripped the Coke hard enough to make the light metal crackle sinisterly. If Feliciano's judgment was correct, he was even trembling lightly "His...I mean he...his pants were...I could...I could see his _thing_!"

The can exploded with a sound pop, its content spurting up like a geyser.

The young one looked at the miniature eruption, sighing wearily.

However, rather than the thought of how long it would take him to clean that mess, it was his brother's scared reaction to cause his sharp intake of breath.

What was he expecting, after having given a boy a massage?  
>A boy madly in love with him, moreover...<p>

And then, they were both men and, yet, his brother didn't seem to be able to even say the word "erection".

Truth to be told, Feliciano was worried.

Since when they were kids, Romano had been protecting him, always trying to put his well-being above everything and anything else.

But, while he struggled to keep his younger brother away from any trouble, little and naive Feliciano had grown up and become a man.

He had had sex for the first time when he had just turned 13 and, by the age of 20, he had engaged into a committed relationship with a man he loved very much, and he had tried to face it all maturely.

He was still a bit clumsy, that's true, especially with all those things like international relationships or economy, but he was sure he could learn a lot of that from Ludwig, in due time.

Romano didn't know.

Maybe, he suspected something, since, well, they weren't trying to hide either, but Feliciano himself had never really talked to him about _those_ matters.

Why?

Romano seemed scared.

Of course, he whistled every time he saw a beautiful girl down the street, and tried to be a gentleman towards the female half of the universe, but, in his entire life, he had never brought someone home, at least as far as he knew.

Since the time he had turned from a child into an understanding adolescent, Feliciano had kept a close eye on the development of the relationship between Antonio and his brother and, when he realized how much the gentle Spanish cared about his "_querido_", the little Italian had felt relieved.

He thought that, maybe, his brother just "swung the other way" and the beautiful Spaniard was surely a good match – handsome, generous, witty, funny.

Somebody able to make Romano finally happy and keep him in check at the same time.

However, things hadn't progressed the way the young Italian had thought.

Judging from the rumors going around, and the happy, blissful face Antonio had stamped on his face from time to time, he had gathered there had been some "physical interaction", between them, but, for some reason he didn't know, his brother looked tense nonetheless.

And every time something even just the slightest bit sex-hinting was brought up, he freaked up completely.

Like tonight, for example.

"Oh... I understand..." Feliciano spoke after a second, his hazel eyes trying to fathom his brother's nearly identical ones.

Romano shook his head, grunting.

He tossed the smashed can into the trash bin, opening the poor fridge to fetch a new one.

"It was so gross! You can't even imagine_ how_ gross!" he took out his Coke and sipped it slowly, casting a distracted look at his brother's half-naked figure. He frowned, suddenly "What's that thing on your right shoulder? It looks like...a bruise, I guess. Did you hurt yourself or something?"

The younger one blinked, surprised, bringing his hand to massage the zone in search of a sore spot.

Bruise?

He was sure he had done nothing to injure his...

… oh.

He blushed a little, feeling a little bump under his fingertips that he immediately identified as the small bite Ludwig had given him just a handful of hours before.

"Oh...this. It's nothing really" he stuttered, chuckling nervously "You don't have to worry, _fratellone_"

How was he supposed to tell his terrified brother about something like that?

Romano, however, didn't buy it as easily as he had hoped.

He narrowed his eyes, drawing closer to inspect the suspicious lesion, and practically pinning poor Feliciano against the counter he had been lying against.

"It's that stupid German, right? He dared hurting you, that bastard! I'm going to kill him! Now!"

He drew back quickly, walking towards the entrance door, but the younger Italian seized his arm, stopping him.

"H-Hey, wait! It's true, it's Ludwig that... did this to me, but...it was consensual, you know..." he looked down, blushing a lot and sort of expecting a mad reaction from his hot-headed sibling.

Romano, however, just raised a brow.

He tilted his head, resting his closed fists on his sides and shooting his little brother a severe look.

"You don't need to protect him all the time, you know! Why would you let him hit you hard enough to leave a bruise, eh? It doesn't make sense!"

Hit him... hard enough to leave a bruise...?

Feliciano blinked in disbelief, slightly shaking his head.

"Veee...i-it's not a bruise, _fratellone_..." he sighed a little, desperately trying to look for the right words and failing "...it's called... a _hickey_"

"Hi..ckey?" the older one titled his head to the side, grimacing "What's that? Some German kind of fighting style?"

Feliciano Vargas' shoulders dropped down.

Did he really...?

Had his brother never...?

For real...?

For a brief moment he thought that Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was either a saint or a complete moron.

And here, he had firmly believed he was a "territorial" man, you know, being Spanish and all, while Ludwig had always been so stiff, and attentive not to leave any marks that couldn't be covered easily...

But still, Romano had no clue about what a "hickey" was.

"You...really don't know what is it?" Feliciano asked again, tentatively.

His brother nodded, scowling as if to say "Don't you dare making fun of me".

The younger Italian sighed.

Wasn't it the other way around, usually?

Big brothers giving the little ones "_The Talk_"?

It was going to be a long, long night...

"Here. Sit on the couch, _fratellone_. I think we need to talk..."

* * *

><p>A handful of minutes later, Feliciano Vargas had put on a pair of trousers and a shirt, and was now sitting cross-legged in a corner of the couch, sipping some chamomile and watching his brother drink what was probably the hundredth espresso of the day.<p>

"So? Will you start speaking or not?" he grunted almost immediately, irritated "Let me warn you, though. Nothing will make me change my mind about beating the crap out of that big, German idiot!"

Feliciano sighed.

Indeed, it was going to be a long night.

He decided to avoid jumping straight to the point and, taking a deep breath to find some courage, he forced his lips into a smile, sighing.

"... how is it going with Antonio, _fratellone_? You spend a lot of time, together..."

Romano immediately grimaced, glaring daggers at him "I don't want to hear anything regarding that idiot for a long while! Can you imagine it? He was...his thing was...!" his hands gestured frantically, and his expression was almost pained "For a simple shoulder massage...!"

The younger Italian nodded a little, trying to look sympathetic, while a small portion of his mind wondered if Ludwig too, would have such a _favorable_ reaction to a massage.

"I see..." he replied, looking intently at his mug "...and tell me...what do you do when you're alone together, mmm? When you don't give him a massage, that is..."

He chuckled a little, hoping that would soothe his brother's gloomy mood.

It seemed to work, to some extent, because Romano just hissed a little, staring ahead.

"...I...well, nothing much. We talk. We quarrel. Sometimes we do stuff together, like, you know, watching movies, or taking a walk..." he sighed, then turned to fix his gaze on Feliciano again "But what does it have to do with that hick-something, there?"

Said Feliciano just waved his hand casually, clearly meaning that he'd get there, eventually.

"Oh, I understand. You look so close to each other!" he paused for a second, pondering about the words he should use "And, tell me...does he ever want to hug you, or touch you?"

He saw Romano's face becoming livid.

"I mean, he looks very friendly and cuddly, doesn't he..?" he added quickly, to smother the tension.

His brother sighed a little, toying with the now empty cup in his hand.

"Yeah, he does. It's always "Romano, come here, _mi vida_", or "Let me hug you close, _mi amor_"...it's sickening, as you can guess...bleargh..."

Poor Antonio.

He ought to have been madly in love, to endure such a behavior for so long, indeed.

"Really?" he tilted his head a little, sipping another mouthful of his clear, warm liquid "I think it's just cute, you know. He shows you that he cares..."

"Well, he can care without always trying to stick his hands somewhere, you know!" the other one retorted, glaring harder than before "And then, it has nothing to do with-"

Okay, maybe doing some random chit-chat to slowly slip into that kind of talk without any trauma wasn't a great idea.

That's why, closing his eyes, he decided to just go for it.

"You two have sex together, don't you?"

He had thought of using some gentler expression, like "sleep together", but he was sure that, despite understanding what he meant pretty well, Romano would try to wriggle out of that topic, by complaining about Antonio snoring, or something.

As soon as he had pronounced those words, his brother's face became pale.

Then, it started to regain its color, swiftly reaching its normal shade but going on still, until he was as red as one of his beloved tomatoes.

"W-What...H-How...? W-Why...?" he stuttered, taken aback "No, of course!"

Denial.

He should have seen it coming.

He tried to smile harder, hoping to put his so-called "cute looks" to some good use.

"Oh, please, _fratellone_, you can be honest with me. I'm your brother, right?"

Romano just became even redder, reaching the spectrum of intense violet.

"It's...you...you're too young to even talk about such a thing! W-when you'll be older, maybe-"

"I already had sex, _fratellone_. Honestly, I had sex even this morning, you know? So, you can talk freely..." Feliciano replied, adding a giggle for good measure.

The older one choked, letting go of the cup that, to the younger one's relief, just bumped on the carpet underneath, without breaking.

"W-WHAT DID YOU DO THIS MORNING?"

"Veeee..." Feliciano slightly pouted, frowning "Ludwig will be gone for a week or two, he has some important business to do with his boss. So, we needed an extra supply of cuddles and all..!"

He laughed in all earnest, recalling for a second Ludwig's super-adorable face as he had knelt down in front of him, unbuckling his belt.

He wondered if even the casual and passionate Spanish would be taken aback by such a thing, but, thinking about it, he seriously doubted his brother would ever do something like that.

Once again, too bad for the poor Antonio.

"Y-you...you and that...that idiot German...you...! H-he can't even go on … a week without touching you? He's dead! He's done for!"

Indeed, it was a nice attempt to try and lead the discussion towards more comfortable topics, but Feliciano wouldn't be fooled that easily – differently from what everyone else believed, of course.

"I asked him to do it myself. He was a little...reluctant" he pondered for a second, letting out a small sigh "He's a workaholic, I think he needs to let go, sometime..."

"F-F-Fe-F-FELICIANOOOOOOO!"

As Romano yelled, his face was bright red for the effort.

His arms swayed nervously, and he almost choked on his own breath.

"Eeeeh? What's wrong? It's true, if you never relax, you end up all tensed, you know?" the younger Italian sipped his chamomile again, trying to look as calm as possible if only to balance his brother's restlessness.

"And all the emotions you bottle up, sooner or later will explode..." he added, casually "I think you should learn how to enjoy yourself some more. And take it a little easier...eh?"

Feliciano giggled a little to himself, wondering if his brother had understood the slight double entendre hidden in his last remark, but the blank and somewhat pissed look he received wiped away any lingering doubt.

"W-what do you mean? I-I enjoy myself very much, thank you! My life is full, rich of satisfactions and I have absolutely nothing wrong, I tell you, noth-"

"How often do you have sex with Antonio, _fratellone_?"

The littler one placidly interrupted him, giving him again that soft, mind-numbing smile of his.

"W-wha...? I mean...I never said that I...with him! N-no, I do-"

Feliciano Vargas shrugged, cocking his head a little and studying Romano's distressed figure.

"Once a day?"

He heard a gasping sound, and his older brother gave him a worried, terrified look.

"_Oh mamma_, no! I could never! And then, I told you that-"

"Three times a week?" tried to guess again the other one, musing for a second that it would be a good compromise – if only for the fact that it was his "average" with Ludwig.

Had it depended on him alone, he would have gone for three times a _day_, but his handsome German was so strict and rule-abiding...

"F-Feliciano, stop it, for God's sake!"

"Once a week?"

That would have explained why Antonio always did his best to absolutely free on every Saturday...

Poor guy. Poor, poor guy.

"M-make it once a month!" erupted Romano all of a sudden, hiding his face with his hands and shaking violently "And stop asking such...shameful things! And don't tell anyone! Do you understand me? _Capito_?"

Once...a month...?

Oh, Lord!

How could they go on without any physical contact for as much as 30 long, excruciating, endless days?

If he couldn't at least, well, make-out a little with Ludwig every few days, he became all broody and depressed...!

The matter was even tougher than he thought, maybe.

"R-really? Once a month? Why don't you do it more often?" he inquired, his worry and surprise evidently seeping through his voice.

"W-why should we do it more often? It's already enough a burden as it is!

Feliciano casually looked at his brother's hands moving nervously and incredibly fast, following them with his gaze and sighing a little.

"And please, _please_, let's not talk about this anymore! Let's forget it, erase it, wipe it _off_! Let's-"

"Is it because it hurts too much, _fratellone_? Is Antonio rough, or something, or doesn't he prepare you long enough? You know, it can be mended, if that's the problem..."

He was sort of sad at the thought of constantly interrupting his brother's every reply, but he was pretty sure that, if he hadn't done so, Romano's rantings would have probably escalated swiftly and seriously enough to make him risk a heart-attack.

He was too... _hysterical_.

Yes, hysterical was the right word.

He definitely need to relax, one way or the other.

He watched him gasp, practically horrified by the words he had heard.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, and he looked pretty much like a fish that had just been pulled out of the water and was now floundering on the shore.

Oh, needless to say, if Feliciano Vargas did dare making such questions, it was only because he was pretty sure of a couple of things.

First of all, he was absolutely _certain_ that Romano was in love with Antonio, even if he hadn't realized it yet.

Well, honestly, it didn't take a genius to understand that, no matter how hard he tried to "free himself of that stupid jerk", in the end he always wound up at his place, but, in case the younger Italian had needed some extra evidence to prove his theory, he had seen with his very eyes a few, unmistakable scenes.

For example, Romano didn't remember any of it, but he had murmured the Spaniard's name a few times, that once his fever was high enough to make him delirious.

And he hadn't calmed down until Antonio had rushed to his side, to cool down his forehead with iced clothes. The patient and loving Spanish had even managed to make that sick rascal swallow some warm soup and a couple of pills, lulling him until he had fallen asleep buried against the older man's chest.

Secondly, he was also sure that his brother was a _bottom_.

This fact wasn't as blatantly obvious as the previous one, but he had some pretty consistent proof nonetheless.

He barked a lot, that's true, but Romano was meeker than everyone else gave him credit for, and his brother knew it well. He claimed to be strong and dominating, but, when push came to shove, he always ended up tagging along, rather than guiding.

And then – another thing his brother sacredly ignored – he had heard them a couple of times, when a drunken Romano had been carried home by a desperate Antonio.

His brother could be incredibly sexy when drunk, sexy and provoking, and the poor Spanish was a saint, but not an eunuch...

Long story short, all the "Please, take it slowly" or "It's too big...it hurts...!" were a dead give away on Romano's "location" during lovemaking.

"HOW CAN YOU ASK SUCH A THING AND STILL KEEP _THAT_ GODDAMNED ANGELIC FACE?"

Feliciano blinked.

Honestly, he didn't think his appearance had anything "angelic" or something. He was just... well, comfortable with the topic?

He was happy with his life, he was satisfied of his sexuality – and it just reflected on his serene features. Or, at least, that's what he thought.

"Veeee...it's not angelic!" he slightly pouted "I'm worried, _fratellone_! Is it really that painful for you? Don't you have some Vaseline, or gel, or something? Oh, and his fingers, does he use them properly?"

He saw Romano Vargas' cheeks go through the whole palette of the color spectrum, and sighed.

"S-STOP IT!" the yell was almost frantic, and the older one shook his head violently "A-and then, s-stop assuming that...that I would be the one who...who...!"

"Who takes it? What's wrong with taking it? I take it too, you know" he giggled, sincerely hoping this would soothe a little his brother's anxiety "Well, most of the times, anyway..."

If his brother's blank and lifeless stare was any a clue, that was the final blow.

He let himself fall back on the sofa, fixing his gaze on the ceiling.

Feliciano reached out, caressing Romano's head with his palm, softly.

"_Fratellone_...? Are you disappointed in me? Because I do things...that are shameful for you?"

The other one didn't reply.

He kept looking up, restlessly, and his limbs shook lightly, as if jolted by electricity.

The little Italian took a deep breath and spoke up again, still stroking his brother's hair.

"You know... Ludwig's been my first man. I had had many girls, before, but no, no men at all. But you know, _fratellone_...I loved him too much to really care about the fact that we were both guys, or...well, to even think about who was going to be on top, or who was going to be the bottom."

He cast a distracted glance at the other boy.

He had stopped shaking, but his eyes were still wandering. He seemed lost in his thoughts.

"Oh...and my first time with Ludwig... I thought I was going to die, because my heart beat so fast, and I was so nervous. And it hurt, yes, it's logical, isn't it? But, at the same time, he hugged me close, and I felt that nothing else mattered... and then, when I relaxed, the pain disappeared, and... it was very pleasant..."

Romano turned around.

He narrowed his gaze, almost glaring at his little brother.

"Good for you" he uttered, turning back to focus on the high ceiling "But I'm different, Feliciano. I'm not made for human relationships...I've tried, but I failed. Antonio's a good enough chap, but I'm simply... beyond repair, I think..."

The hand stopped stroking for a second.

There was a small pause, and a little gasp.

"Do you love him, _fratellone_?"

He didn't have any doubt about it, but he thought that bringing his stiff and shy brother to say it himself would be... therapeutic for him.

"Love is a big word" he replied, hurriedly "But... if by love you mean that I miss him when he's gone, or that... he's one of the few people I want around when I'm mad, or sad... then...yeah, I love him..."

The young one smiled.

"And...do you like it, when he makes love to you?" he saw Romano's face contract again, so he added, quickly and with an uncharacteristic, stern tone "Please, be honest..."

"I...I don't..." he sighed, wearily and deeply "...it's weird. I...it hurts, every single time, for me. I know, I know, I should relax, because if you relax everything's easier, smoother, and a lot less painful, right? And Antonio says it too, every time, and he's sweet, and he waits for me and all that jazz...but I_ can't _relax, that's all. All it takes me to creep out is seeing him naked in the same bed with me, would you believe it?" he paused, chuckling bitterly "Of course not, you seem to get along so well with your German ice cube, there..."

As he heard him speak, Feliciano felt an incredible fondness towards his brother.

"I don't claim that I can understand you, no, but...I can try to imagine, how hard it can be. Maybe... if you took some initiative of your own, you wouldn't be taken aback, no? You could be in control, and maybe that would calm you down, at least a little bit...huh?"

Just when his younger brother reached out to stroke his hair again, Romano sat up.

He blushed, a tiny bit, gaping.

"...I can't! Is it that hard to understand? I'm not like you all! I...I can't picture myself starting to kiss him, or hug him, or caress him, or whatever!" he hissed, almost panting "Whenever he draws closer to me, I start sweating, and my heart beats too fast, and blood pounds into my head! How am I supposed to think straight and be collected enough to start something, eh?"

Feliciano smiled again.

If that wasn't "love", then, what was it?

"You don't have to be "collected", you know, _fratellone_?" he patted his head, softly "If you feel like kissing him, just kiss him. If you feel like hugging him, just hug him..." he shrugged, still beaming "And, of course, if you feel like... giving him some adult cuddles, just do that too, eh!"

His giggle filled the room and the older Italian huffed, crossing arms on his chest.

"Heh...if I did something like that, Antonio would be scared like Hell. He'd call the doctor, yelling hysterically that I'm deadly sick, or somethin'..."

The younger laughed again, sincerely.

"I don't think so. If you start giving him a blow-job _willingly_, he'll be too _petrified_ to react in any way other than fainting, in my opinion!"

He dropped it casually, but, as usual, his brother was astonished.

"F-FELICIANO! W-Where did you learn...?"

The young one shrugged.

"With Ludwig of course. He loves it when I do it with my mouth. I think I'm quite skilled at-"

"I WAS TALKING ABOUT THE _WORD_! THE DAMN _WORD_! YOU _DID_ SUCH A THING?" he nearly choked, shocked beyond belief "Oh, _mamma_...how...how COULD YOU?"

Feliciano blinked, somewhat surprised.

"Well? You never did it?"

"Of course NOT!"

He blinked again.

Yes, he had sort of imagined that someone as shy and sex-scared like his brother would... refrain from certain practices, to say the least, but still, hearing it from his very lips was still unsettling.

"Not even _once_? Really?"

"NO, I tell you!"

Antonio wasn't a saint.

He was... what's there even higher and holier and purer than sanctification?

Well, whatever it was, it reflected the condition of the poor Spaniard.

Feliciano put his finger on his own chin, pondering deeply for a few seconds.

"... did you ever receive one?"

Even before Romano would reply, his mad blush was indeed a telltale sign.

"T-that's none of your business!"

"That's so selfish of you, _fratellone_!" the young Italian did his best to hold back his laughter as he watched his sibling's face nearly explode from embarrassment "You let him go down on you and never pay back the favor!"

"I never said I _enjoy_ it!"

Feliciano Vargas smirked a little "But do you?"

Again, the red shade of his brother's face was more eloquent than any spoken confession, but, after a few seconds of utter shame, he managed to blurt out a hushed "Yeah"

"You enjoy getting one, however you're too prude to...how can I put it? Be on the giving end?"

"I'm not _prude_! I just...I mean...it's not normal to...it's...! AAAAH! You will never understand! What did that German do to you?" he desperately seized Feliciano's shoulders, shaking him violently "What did he do to my sweet, innocent brother? _Il mio fratellino_! Give him back, you blond son of a bitch!"

Desperate situations needed desperate countermeasures.

The small and apparently naive Italian knew it very well.

"Veee! You're just envious, _fratellone_! Because I can do something that you cannot!"

He did his best to pour childishness and mockery into his voice, and, as he heard himself speaking, he thought he did a decent job.

"W-what the fuck are you saying?"

"That you're jealous of me! I dare you to do that, too! To go down on your Spanish_ keeper_! If you can, that is..."

Well, he wasn't sure if it was because the likes of Romano Vargas hated to lose, or because of the absolutely calculated, teasing way he had let the word "keeper" roll out of his lips, but, the young mastermind was absolutely pleased to see his brother's face become literally livid with anger.

"YOU'RE GONNA SEE! THERE'S ABSOLUTELY NOTHING I CAN'T FUCKING DO!"

As he watched a very pissed South-Italian stomp out of the room, fuming and muttering to himself like a pot about to explode, Feliciano Vargas could only think that, if his little plan was going to really work, a certain Spanish would owe him a big, big one.

_**o-O-o Owari o-O-o**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Liked it? Hated it? Couldn't care any less?<strong>_

_**Let me know!**_

_**Coming soon (should you like this one) - Romano tries to win the bet...  
><strong>_


	2. Omake 1

_**Here we go!**_

This is not exactly a chapter two, rather, an omake (spin-off) from the main story.

I love writing Antonio's POV, for some weird reason, and this cheesy, sweet little thingie is one of my favvies.

So, sorry for the cuteness, and on with the story!

Special Dedications:

to all those wonderful ladies and gents who have favved this!

to my uber-super-wonderful reviewers!  
><em><strong>Kuro Mirai<strong>_: this is how Romano tries to win the bet! I hope you enjoy! :D And thank you for thinking this is "wonderful", ahaha. I had fun writing it!  
><em><strong>ScatteringAshes<strong>_: you made me blush so much that I look like a tomato! Gah! And since I was born in south Italy, I want to munch my own face, now! :D By the way, not all Italians eat raw tomatoes without salt, or olive oil, but I do! Ahahah, I'm so Hetalialike!  
><em><strong>One-Eyed Lady<strong>_: when you told me that Feli was in character I was so surprised and happy! I thought I had missed the point completely with him. Oh, thank you for the comment on my English! :D It's much appreciated!

to my auntie, as usual, she's the one who got me hooked on Spamano and the Italian bros, in first place. You should thank her too! :D 

_**Omake! 1 – In which hot-headed Romano tries to win at any cost...**_

He was completely taken aback when, as he was dully drying the dishes he had just washed, he felt himself being pulled back by a powerful tug on his clothes.

He turned around, spotting a particularly annoyed Romano – that, _per se_, already meant some sort of trouble ahead – glaring at him one his bloody, mafia-like, murderous glares that could make the likes of Ivan Braginsky feel a little shiver down his spine.

"R-Romano, _querido_? You're back? I'm sorry for what happened before, but it felt good and I didn't mean to-"

"Shut up!"

Antonio swallowed hard.

Even if spotting the little Italian pissed for something was a daily – even hourly – recurrence, seeing him _really angry_ was a rare enough occurrence, one of those infrequent and terribly unpleasant events that tended to rise the "level of blody-ness" of their already difficult relationship.

"_M-mi amor,_ please...I will cook some tomatoes for you, so...forgive me?"

"Shut. The Hell. Up!"

Romano's voice was authoritative beyond belief and a fairly scared Spanish decided it was definitely better for his physical integrity to just shut up and let it steam it off his own – usually violent – way.

He gulped again as the smaller man raised his hand but, much to his dismay, instead of hitting him with a slap or a punch, he just grabbed him firmly by the collar and yanked him to sit on one of the small kitchen chairs.

Things going to hell in a handbasket, indeed.

"_Mi vida...mi amor_...w-what...what do you want to do?"

He tightened the grip on the poor Spaniard's shirt for a few seconds, cutting a good half of the air that could reach his poor, already panting lungs.

"Didn't I made it clear enough? JUST SHUT UP! Don't talk, don't move, don't _breathe_!"

He hadn't the slight intention to contradict him, because, if his blood-filled eyes were any a sign, even the smallest thing that wouldn't meet his wishes would have caused him a painful punishment.

And, right because of the thought of being about to be beaten to a pulp, that Antonio Fernandez Carriedo gasped in the most earnest and deepest surprise when Romano not only let go of his collar, but knelt down in front of him, pushing hard on the Spanish' knees to spread them wide.

"R-Romano, I know I should be speaking...b-but please...t-tell me what-"

"Close that goddamned mouth of yours, you bastard!"

He would have surely complied to such a "_heartfelt request_", but the Italian's hands fumbling to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants were too much of a shock for him to keep silent.

"...please...I beg of you... I promise I will never, ever do such a thing...but...spare me...please...!"

The younger one didn't reply.

Bad, bad sign.

He was going to be castrated.

Antonio was now sure of it.

He was going to be turned into an eunuch only because he had had a small, insignificant, tiny erection because of a blissful, heavenly and _willing_ massage from the boy he loved so much.

Such a grim life, he had.

When Romano freed his aching member – that was already reacting to the touch, the little traitor – he honestly expected him to stand up any moment, grab one of the many, sharp knives in the drawer and just cut his... virility off, but...

… but Romano just began to stroke him.

Was it a test?

Was he daring him not too get excited and beat the crap out of him if he became hard or something...?

Because, if that was the deal, he was already done for long before starting.

"_Mi amor_..._mi querido._..please...stop...I promise I won't do that anymore...stop...stop...!"

But, right in that moment, as he was massaging his growing erection, the Italian's angered and fuming face slowly but steadily faded into the usual, impossibly scared grimace he put on whenever they were about to do some...adult thing together.

"Romano...hey...?"

Again, he received no reply.

He saw the younger man close his eyes, and lean over, until his lips brushed against his hot skin and he gasped badly, shivering despite himself.

What was he...?

"_M-Mi amor_...w-wha...?"

Suddenly, the kisses intensified.

Romano's face contracted, and he squeezed his eyes as if he was trying to hold out, or to choke back some unpleasant feeling.

He brushed his lips up and down, trying to be careful, copying the pace that Antonio recognized as his own, the one he kept whenever he went down on his little _querido_.

Then, just as abruptly, he let his tongue dart out, giving a small, tentative lick.

He trembled all over as he did, and two big, round tears formed at the corners of his still lidded orbs.

The Spaniard's heart couldn't take it anymore.

He cupped the Italian's face, making him look upwards.

"Hey...what happened, _mi vida_? What's wrong? Why...why are you doing this..? Why are you crying?"

He let his thumbs run over those reddened, wet cheeks, trying to wipe away his tears, like he had so many times already, during their life together.

As soon as they made eye-contact, Romano Vargas just broke.

He burst into a desperate cry, hugging Antonio close and burying his sniffling face against his stomach.

"Hey... there, there... don't cry..."

He caressed the boy's hair, trying to soothe him a little, still completely ignoring what could have possibly happened to make him act so weird and, most of all, end up so upset.

"...I...I can't...Feliciano is right...I can't, I can't, I can't...!"

His voice was hushed, and he kept repeating "I can't" over and over again, so heartbroken, so despaired.

"What happened with your brother...? Mmm? Won't you tell the Boss?"

The Spanish man heard him take a sharp breath, and cough a little, unable to stifle his sobs.

"I...he...he said that...and...he was right...I...I can't...I can't even...give you a damn _blow-job_...I'm useless...I'm worthless...I hate myself so much...so much..."

Antonio blushed madly at the sound of that word that promised so much goodness, but he swiftly shrugged it off, worried about the state his beloved was in.

"...did your cute, little brother really tell you such a thing? That you wouldn't be able to give me a...uhm, _that_ thing?"

"He's not cute! He's turned into a devil, a _devil_!" he hugged him tighter, trying to breathe through his clogged noise and ending up making that sort of adorable gagging sound that reminded the Spaniard of the boy's infancy "If...if you had _heard_ him! He says such shameful _things_! He _does_ such shameful things...! But...but I can't! I'm...useless...I can't...I can't...!"

The older man smiled a tiny bit despite himself.

His Romano was so tender and frail and, yet, no one knew. It was a sort of unwilling secret they both shared and that Antonio covertly cherished.

He pulled the Italian up, until he was sitting on his legs, but the boy didn't even dare to watch him. He kept hiding his face, burying it against the Spanish' neck.

"Hey...I don't care if you don't give me a blow-job now, or if you never will, you know? Because... I don't love some... non-existent, false image of Romano...I love the real Romano, and I love everything of him...his good sides and his bad sides alike...that's what love is all about, isn't it?"

He felt him shift his weight, turning his face around and resting his cheek on the Spaniard's shoulder, still not looking at him.

"I don't have...any good sides..." he muttered, pained.

"That's not true, not true at all" Antonio kissed the top of his head, sweetly "You're funny. You're elegant, you have a smart sense of fashion that I'll never possess. You're incredibly good at cooking, at art, you sing very well...and then... you've stolen my heart, and, for me, that's definitely an upside..."

He let a small chuckle escape his lips, still cuddling and hugging his boy.

They stayed like that for what looked like an eternity, the older one stroking and the younger one pouring out all the tears in his heart, silently.

"A-Antonio...?"

He muttered after a long while, his voice rough from all the crying.

"Mmmm?"

"I...I promise you that one day I will do it. One day... my body will obey my mind, I promise you. One day... I will be able to kiss you, and hug you, and undress you...and stroke you...and do to you whatever you already do to me... and...maybe I will be on top too, one day..." he felt little, child-like fingers grab his shirt, shaking "Just...please...wait for me..."

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo smiled broadly.

The smallest tear of happiness gleamed at the corner of his eye, but he wiped it away, swiftly.

He made the Italian look up, ever so gently, and kissed his lips – just a soft, innocent peck.

Of course he would wait.

He would wait for his Romano forever and a day, and, when he would be ready, maybe, Antonio would even allow himself to cry in front of him.

That night, however, they just slept snuggled against each other.

_**o-O-o Omake! 1– Owari o-O-o**_

_**Like it? Hated? Couldn't care any less? Let this poor Italian lady know! :D**_

_**Coming soon (last part, at least for now): There is only one thing that Romano still doesn't understand...what the Hell is a hickey?**_


	3. Omake 2

Guess what? I'm still alive! :D

So, here is the last part, for now.

I say for now, because there's something I've been thinking – but I'll explain after thanking my incredible reviewers!

_**Ravynne Nightshade Dru **_: oh my gawd! :D Your review made me laugh my ass off, SERIOUSLY, because, really, even if my family is strictly catholic (South Italy, remember? XD) and I'm a damn atheist who will burn in Hell for her fanfictions, I had never thought that... pfff...Catholic Romano! Seriously, I love you. Heaps!

_**BowmanJean:**_ Whore!Feli is lovely, isn't he? :D Well, I don't think he's a complete slut, though – he's just less prude, compared to his bro. One stuck-up ice cube is enough for a relationship to work, right? (Ludwig, anyone? :D)

_**Just A Girl With A Keyboard: **_first, I love your nickname. Really! And then, waaaah! I'm glad you find him adorable :D I do too, really! Hearts and huggies for Cute!Romano!

_**ScatteringAshes **_: waaaah! You're incredible! * o * I have self-esteem issues too – I'm like, a female, living version of Romano, now that I think about it! X°D – and your reviews make me go "Oooooh! Love her!" :D So, thank you! Cookies for you! And tomatoes!

_**One-Eyed Lady **_: ahahah! Oh, well, she's not my "real" aunt, but she really got me hooked to yaoi in first place :D Ahah! My real aunts are boring and old. Too bad. Thank you for your compliments! Hope this last part won't disappoint you!

Of course again, thanks to my "auntie"! :D That said, my idea:

I've written about Feliciano. About Romano. About Antonio – all three POVs. I lack only Ludwig, right? :D So, if some of you can suggest me something interesting about the matter than Ludwig might think/say, I'll write a third and final omake, and dedicate it to the wonderful person who inspired me!

What do you think?

Now, on with ubercuteness!

Romano's POV. Finally? :D

_**Omake! 2 – In which the last question finds its answer**_

The morning after, Romano woke up still latched around the warm and cozy figure of a certain Spaniard.

He blinked a couple of times, blushing madly as he realized that the other man was wide awake already, and watching him slumber.

"_Buenos dias, mi amor_..." he murmured softly, kissing the top of his head very gently.

Somehow, this time the hot-headed Italian just nodded in reply, foregoing the usual screams and kicks he threw whenever he found the Spanish taking advantage of his sleeping figure for some of his cheesy habits.

Rather, he just stayed there quietly, even daring to snuggle a little closer yet.

Antonio himself frowned a little.

He rested his palm on the younger one's head, trying to figure out whether or not he had a fever.

"... are you feeling unwell?" he asked, worriedly.

He shook his head.

No, Romano Vargas wasn't sick.

He was just... pensive.

Fragments of the conversation with his little brother swirled in his mind, mixed with other, even less pleasant memories of how he had made a fool out of himself by crying in front of his former keeper yet one more time.

He couldn't help but think that, somehow, he hadn't matured at all from the times Antonio used to scold him because he hadn't cleaned well, or because of some prank he had pulled.

His body was bigger, his clothes were fancier but, deep inside, he still felt like a little kid scared of everything and anything.

And, while he was struggling with his own, insignificant fears, his brother – his little, cute, innocent brother – had become a man, who did... manly things, and wasn't bothered by the likes of _blow-jobs_, or by getting a bruise the size of a tangerine on his shoulder...

… right.

The bruise.

How had he said it was called again?

_Hickey_?

In the end, their "talk" had spiraled down so quickly that he had completely forgotten to ask Feliciano about how exactly he had gotten that thing and, more importantly, what the hell it was in first place.

He raised his head a little, looking at the Spaniard's scared eyes that were literally scanning his curled figure in search of a sign of pain, or sickness, or something.

"...I was wondering... do you know what a "hickey" is?"

He spoke up absentmindedly and, the moment he realized it fully, he was already regretting his rushed choice.

Damn!

Antonio flushed a little.

He cleared his throat, a little uncomfortably, and Romano's eyes widened.

That Spanish jerk wasn't thinking he wanted one right away...was he?

H-He didn't even know what it was, how could he think that he could already want on-

"... yeah, let's say I do... W-what about hickeys, _querido_?"

The Italian sighed a little, in relief.

"...my brother had a huge, purple bruise on his shoulder, yesterday..." he muttered, feeling somewhat like a complete idiot and, thus, burying his head again in that broad chest "... I thought that stupid German he sticks around with had hit him, or something, but... he said it was called a "hickey"...and it was consensual, so, I was wondering...w-what the hell is that "hickey"?

He heard the Spanish swallow hard, tensing the slightest bit before relaxing again and ruffle his hair a little.

"A hickey is... we could say that it's a special kiss that leaves a mark. Some people think it's gross, because they believe the idea of marking another person is uncivil." he paused for a second, pondering "I don't think so, though. To me, it's just a sign of love. Because, every time you watch that tiny bruise, you remember the special person who gave it to you. It's romantic, in a sense." he stopped again and, somehow, his voice looked sadder than usual "But, as I said, everyone's different. Don't let it get to you too much if you think it's disgusting, okay?"

That last remark squeezed Romano's stomach like a nauseous wave.

Antonio could see through him so effortlessly, every single time, and yet, he always tried to be comforting and sympathetic, putting his own necessities always after those of the small Italian.

"...a kiss? C-can a kiss really leave such a big... bruise?"

He tried to shift the topic just lightly, hoping that it would both raise a bit the Spaniard's mood, and make his own uneasiness quench, if only slightly.

"Well, as I said, it's not a normal kiss, but...a sort of special one..." he repeated, calmly.

Romano didn't dare looking up.

What if he would spot that pained, sorrowful look, that rare expression that made Antonio look like a human, rather than the invincible boss he had always been?

"Does it hurt...?"

Why was he talking?

Why couldn't he just give him a punch, and pretend that stupid, dangerous talk had never started?

"No, it doesn't. Sometimes it stings a little, but it's not painful, no..."

When he felt the Spanish' warm body separate from his own, the Italian panicked.

He gripped onto him harder, preventing him from getting up.

What if he would forget about him, this time?

What if, by leaving that bed, he would leave Romano behind as well, scared, terrified, because he was an idiot, because Antonio didn't want to stay with a spoiled kid, but with a man, for a change?

One who knew what a freaking hickey was, or one who wouldn't fucking cry when trying to give a goddamned _blow-job, _while still not complaining when receiving one...

"Mmm...?" the older one turned around, patting his back as softly and gently as he usually did "...what's wrong?"

He needed to say something, anything.

He needed to break that terrible spell, or either...either...

But his tongue was stuck and words just wouldn't leave his mouth.

"...hey...? Didn't I tell you not to let it get to you, mmm?"

That wasn't it!

It wasn't for that stupid hickey, or whatever it was called, he was just...

… he didn't want to be abandoned, he didn't want to lose him.

And then, the miracle happened.

He gasped, badly, and, with a rough and unnatural tone, he uttered.

"...if it's not painful...if it doesn't hurt...I wanna do it! Give me a hickey, too...!"

Antonio tilted his head to the side, and he gaped a little as well, chuckling soon after.

"I told you, it's not important...what do you want to eat for breakfast?"

He tried to get up again, but Romano held him still.

He gathered all of his courage and made his eyes travel up, fixing his gaze into the emerald pools of the Spanish.

He felt his own vision blur, but he bit his lip, pushing back the upcoming tears.

"G-Give me a hickey, you _bastard_! Why don't you ever listen to me?"

Why was he swearing even now?

Why, why, why?

The Spaniard sighed a little.

He hugged the Italian closer, rolling over and straddling him, but not heavily, not scarily.

Romano somewhat relaxed, hissing out a breath.

He sensed Antonio's eyes wander about his laying figure, attentively, almost studying it.

Then, the Spanish rolled up his t-shirt a bit, exposing his stomach, and the Italian fought hard against the urge to stop him and cover himself back.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, trembling a little.

"I'm gonna place it here, okay?" he said quietly, tracing with his fingers a small portion of sensitive skin right below his navel, a little bit to the right "So, it won't show even if your shirt isn't well-buttoned, no one will see it, no one will ask you any question, and you won't have to give any uncomfortable explanation..."

The man smiled, and the Italian felt another sharp pang in his stomach, for yet another of his former keeper's attentions towards him.

Once again, he had been seen through as if he was made of glass.

He nodded, dumbly, hoping his shame wouldn't seep through his slightly nervous features.

"It usually doesn't hurt, but if you feel any pain, or discomfort, or if you just freak out and can't take it anymore for some reason..." he shrugged "... just... yell, or punch me, or yank on my hair... And I will stop, I promise..."

Then, Antonio bowed, giving his belly a small kiss that made him shiver, before starting to suck gently, drawing the soft flesh into his mouth.

The wave of utter pleasure that washed over Romano's body was almost too much to bear.

He shut his eyes close, gripping the sheets and arching his back a little into that heavenly, but sort of innocent touch.

A heart-felt moan escaped his lips, and he turned his head to press his nose against one of the pillows, feverishly hoping to stifle it.

His hands sunk into those brown, smooth locks, but he didn't pull. Rather, he caressed his scalp, slowly and insecurely.

He felt a light bite, but that didn't hurt either.

It just added a bit to the faint stinging sensation he was experiencing, making it, if possible, even more blissful.

He could see now why Feliciano had been consenting...

And, soon enough, the pleasure became heat, and the Italian felt it distinctly pool in his groin, making his body react naturally.

He was suddenly frightened.

What if the Spaniard would notice?

He had done such a fuss for him getting hard over a shoulder massage, less than a day before, and now, for a little more than a kiss, he was doing exactly the same.

He was pathetic, wasn't he?

But, right when he thought Antonio would notice, he pulled back, giving another small peck on the area he had just sucked so delightfully.

"There, a nice hickey you have!"

He chuckled, softly, but Romano was way too spellbound to discern if that laughter was sad or happy.

"Give it a few hours, and it will become as big as your brother's, I promise..."

The Spanish stood up, and the laying boy rolled to the side, closing his legs in the attempt to hide his arising problem.

When he saw the slight grin on the other man's face, however, he knew he had been found out.

He cursed under his breath, wondering what kind of payback was awaiting him, but Antonio just turned around, pretending to study the curtains for a second, before speaking, merrily.

"Sugar-free espresso, and a toast for you, right?"

He didn't even wait for a sign of approval.

He just disappeared, closing the door behind his shoulders.

Maybe he should have grabbed him again.

Maybe he should have asked him to "take care of his problem", and he was sure the Spaniard would have been more than happy to comply.

But, somehow, Romano was already content enough.

For the first time, he had managed to ask for something, and not to freak out completely.

For the first time, he had acted like man, more than a child.

Right, there was still a long way to go, but... one step at a time, he was now sure he could make it.

For himself.

For the man he loved.

He gingerly got to his feet, ignoring the pain between his legs and preparing for a bath.

And, when he saw the expanding, purple stain on his skin reflected in the mirror, he hoped it would never fade.

_**o-O-o Omake! 2 – Owari o-O-o**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Last part - completed!<br>**_

_**Liked it? Hated it? I will give you a virtual bowl full of "PASTAAAAAAAA-" if you let me know! XD**_

_**I won't put "complete" yet, though.**_

_**If anyone of you has some ideas about an eventual German POV...please share! **_

_**You'll earn my ethernal love and a special, special dedication :D  
><strong>_


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